


H is for Heartbeat

by Astorminheaven



Category: Oasis - Fandom, oasis band
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 15:37:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15799491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astorminheaven/pseuds/Astorminheaven
Summary: Liam and Noel go on vacation somewhere and are angsty and pretentious about it





	H is for Heartbeat

_ Tremble with a sigh, glitter in your eye _

_ You seem to come and go, I never seem to know _

_ And all my time is yours as much as mine _

_ We never have enough time to show our love _

_ /// _

Past all the drink and the drugs and the ego and the fighting, all we are are two brothers in a band who love each other very much. Too much. But then again, everything single fucking thing we do is to the point of excess, why would our relationship be any different? 

Or, so is my reasoning as I fall into your arms and let you pull me down on top of you, high as a kite and laughing, laughing because really what we do can never seem excessive. In fact, it’s never enough. I know you feel the same as you envelop me with an urgency reflective of what is important in the here and now; us. I pull back, against your wishes which you are all too keen to vocalise,  and take a moment to bask in you _.  _ You lie beneath me, pinned by my thighs straddling your hips, a questioning look in your eyes, arms limp and folding unto your chest, almost as if in prayer. The sheer notion of religion in a moment such as this makes me want to laugh, but how I feel about you is only definable in words such as  _ worship _ . 

“What’re you doin’, daft cunt?” you smirk, reaching so as to pull me back to you.

I ignore you, opting instead to grab your wrists and kiss your palms, holding them against my cheek. 

“Noel…” you hum, before grinding against me in an effort to get my attention, “I’m not a bird, cut the fucking foreplay.” I know you love it though. You can play the hard man all you want, but that’s all it will ever be an act.

“I’m trying to have a fucking moment, if you didn’t notice,” I grumble. I’d like to pretend to be annoyed, but it’s been so long without you I can’t bear to waste the second it would take me to form a frown. You smile slowly and cast your eyes down.

“I missed you. Missed this. Us two.” 

Against my cheek, I can feel your pulse through your wrist, and I kiss it before leaning back in and kissing you. 

“So did I.” 

It’s the closest to ‘I love you’ as we’ll get, sentimentality better shown than said. You wrap your arms back around my neck, running your fingers deftly through my hair. Denial is much more than just a river in Egypt I think before you crash our lips together once more, but then again, who were we to deny what feels so infinitely right?

_ /// _

_ First, you look so strong, then you fade away _

_ The sun will blind my eyes, I'll love you anyway _

_ Thirsty for your smile, I watch you for a while _

_ You are a vapour trail in a deep blue sky _

_ /// _

I wake up sometime in the afternoon, and the light filters onto your sleeping form in slats, making you shimmer and separate like a vision, a mirage, and I’m suddenly struck by the irrational fear that I’ll lose you for the first time. The white duvet lies in a pile at your feet as if kicked aside in a fit, exposing your long legs which splay slightly and expose your white pants which you must have gotten up at some point and changed back into. I don’t stop to ponder why instead of admiring the way they serve to only highlight the recent tan you’ve developed from tropical vacations and newfound leisure time. When I make it to your face, I see you’ve also awoken, and you blink up at me sleepily. Your eyes are painfully blue, and I resist the urge to wilt under your gaze. 

“G’mornin’” you mumble, rubbing your eyes, mouth twisting into a smile. 

_ I don’t believe that anybody feels the way I do about you now.  _ (I might have written that with Meg in mind, but everything always comes back to you.)

“Liam, it’s two in the afternoon.” 

You stick your tongue out at me and fumble at the bedside table for a cigarette, muscles and tendons and ribs flexing and moving under smooth, soft skin. I rub a shaky hand along your flank and you shiver. 

“When’s the flight for again?” Your voice is still thick with sleep, deep and husky. 

“Six thirty.” 

You don’t respond immediately, licking your lips nervously and taking a long drag off the b&h instead. I lean in closer to you and you pass the cigarette to me.  I know what you’re thinking. We’ve only a little bit of time left before we’ll have to say goodbye. Again. 

“Noel…” you begin, then stop, taking the cigarette back. The smoke floats between us, and I try not to think of how soon distance will too. Instead, I meet you in the middle, catching you in a bruising kiss. You snub out the fag on the nightstand, and I’m glad the room is booked under your name instead of mine. I work my knee between your thighs and you hum contently as I pull on the hem of your pants. 

“What’d you go and put these back on for?” I ask, snapping the band with my forefinger, teasingly. 

“I like the way you take them off,” you grin, never shy. 

“Like this?” I bite the hem and pull them down your slim hips, exposing you, already half hard. You blush and nod, placing your hands daintily on top of my head, caressing the sides of my face. Your eyelashes fan out against your cheeks and you look almost doll-like in the dimness of the shaded hotel room. A pretty fucking boy, that’s what you are. You gasp as I take you into my hand, hissing  _ yes yes yes  _ like a religious sacrament as I coax you completely erect. I pull back long enough to admire my handiwork and, dutifully, you flip onto your stomach and spread your legs to accommodate me back between your thighs. I run my hand down your broad back before retrieving the lube from amongst my luggage heaped on the floor. 

When I remount the bed, you turn and look back at me. Once again I am confronted by the depth of your baby blues. Our baby blues. I don’t take the time to wonder if you feel the same way when confronted by my own gaze, instead, I make quick work of slicking my fingers and slipping one inside you. I feel you force yourself to relax as I stretch you, breath hitching with discomfort, and though it has been only hours since we last made love, memories of your tightness and heat makes my jeans tight and pull uncomfortably. When my third knuckle joins my second and first, and you groan shamelessly, “Fuck, Noel, just take me already,” and I know you’re ready. 

“Liam, turn back over. Wanna look at you,” I ask. 

I want to etch these moments in my head forever. You do as you are told, hurriedly, immediately locking our lips. When we break, you pant, “No more bullshit. Fuck me.” I don’t argue, lubing up and thrusting inside without additional comment. You throw your arms across my back and tuck your head into my neck. I know that once upon a time you would have left a love bite there, a token of unspoken love, but we both have missus now and times have changed. 

But you have not changed. Soft moans fall from your mouth, muffled only by my shoulder. I straighten so as to uninstall you from my chest, to take you in as I originally intended. You’ve bitten your lips plump and red, sweat plastering your hair to your forehead and cheeks. I thrust into particularly harsh and your mouth drops and your eyes snap shut.

“F’fuckin hell,” you throw your head back against the pillow, exposing the pale column of your throat. You try in vain to meet my eyes, anxious to please until the bitter end, but you can’t keep your eyes focused. They settle to a point over my left shoulder, overwhelmed. I’m reaching my end too, hips beginning to falter. You pull me in closer with your arms until our chests are flush and our sweat runs together. 

“Come for me,” you groan. 

I obey, and you finally succeed in meeting my eyes. Something unidentifiable glimmers there, your eternal light. I pull out and you hum, reaching between your open thighs to finish yourself. I batter your hands away, disapprovingly. 

“Jesus, Liam, let me take care of you,” I groan, the sight of you pleasuring yourself too much to take in my post-orgasmic state, before bending down and taking you into my mouth. You cry out and cover your eyes with your forearms, overwrought. It takes less than a minute before you spill into my mouth, before falling back on the mattress utterly devastated. I swallow and join you on the mattress, both of us gasping for breath. I pull you into my arms, the sheets now deceptively cool and sticking to us, a gauzy caress. The bedside clock table glows quarter to three, and together we drift, interlocked, into a dreamless sleep. Before I’m lost completely, I think I hear you whisper something that sounds akin to, “Don’t leave me.” When six thirty comes, I don’t have a choice. 

_ /// _

_ And all my time is yours as much as mine _

_ We never have enough time to show our love _

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to give feedback, I hope you all enjoy! The song mentioned throughout is Vapour Trail by Ride.


End file.
